


A Dream Beyond

by feenixiah (mireisen)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:56:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mireisen/pseuds/feenixiah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus' and Shepard's progeny becomes the future of the galaxy. Set post Mass Effect 3. Chronicles a transitional period of Reilliane Vakarian's life. Created for the Mass Effect Big Bang 2013. With illustration by MaxxieDemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  [](http://tinypic.com?ref=1256gwo)   
> 

A young human woman stood out to the brimming purple sunrise before her. The moons were still casting its light upon the flat and open landscape. The air was fresh, crisp, and the temperature was cool to the skin. Shades of violet and blue draped over the swaying grass below her. Several native avian creatures flew above her in flocks, making noises that sounded like deep hums.

Her back-length auburn-brown hair flowed gently in the morning breeze. They were in fine straight strands, her soft cut bangs were planted against her pale forehead with beads of sweat. She was a tall woman, bound in a black and gray catsuit with various armored plates at her shins and forearms. Her hips were bound by a thick ammunition belt and two heavy pistols. White and red stripes ran down her right arm, and an N6 emblem was marked over her left breast.

As the girl stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the expanse of the world below her, she held a gloved hand to her hip. She lifted her hand away to reveal an open wound, a large gash that seeped out red blood. Her eyes fluttered lightly, squinting at the rising sun. Her dark brown brows pinched before she struggled down the cliff’s slope with an ungraceful limp. Even while she slowly descended, she held her orange omni-tool out towards the rising horizon, hoping that it’d somehow function. She left a trail of red blood behind her, and as the liquid settled it began to fade into a violet hue, and then to blue. 

Her uniform hood had been pulled down. She had discarded her breather sometime ago. She narrowly escaped a hopeless firefight and had been walking with little food or water for nearly three days. Her reserves pack was nearly at its end and she had only one small blue ration bar to subsist on. She decided to forego eating for as long as her body could handle, but a small pang of starvation had already settled in her stomach.

As she trudged along towards the light, hoping to come to some part of civilization, her eyes began to flutter uncontrollably as her vision darkened and she fell unceremoniously to the dusty floor.


	2. Chapter 2

“Lieutenant Vakarian,”

A pair of bright purple-blue eyes shot open at the sound. It was a quiet room with a bright beaming light on the dressing table. It was blinding, but as one's eyes began to focus, it was clear that the young lady had regained consciousness in a hospital ward. Several hologram diagrams beeped in a rhythmic beat, and to her left was a white and steel machine that fed into her veins. The woman slowly sat up from the white, unforgivingly hard-surfaced table. Her naked legs and feet dangled from the cool edge. She was dressed in hospital attire: a tight knit white undershirt and high-cut shorts. A bare hand came to her forehead to wipe away the cool sweat that had accumulated there. 

“Lieutenant Vakarian,” the voice said again. Female. Clear-pitched. She looked to her other side to see a human female dressed in a white crisp lab coat. She was blonde girl with some kind of subtle eye makeup and her hair bound in a high and tight bun: the typical visage of a hospital physician. “How are you feeling?”

“A little under still,” the other woman replied. Her purple eyes fluttered slightly, trying to focus into her surroundings. She saw some drops of blood that stained the clean white hospital sheets, right at her elbows. They were dried and dark blue in color. The room was small and empty save for the medical devices, the table, and the two women present. She saw a window overlooking some flying skycars zooming past the bright blue sky. Someone had left the drapes open. At her white chrome bedside was a clear glass of water and an arrangement of white milkwood flowers with a navy blue bow. 

The blonde girl had a datapad in one hand and a stylus in the other. She was scribbling with an old-fashioned flair. Most doctors during her time kept the age-old tradition of handwriting, mainly because keypads were still impractical to a point. The female doctor rested the tip of the stylus on her bottom lip before speaking. “Biotic amps have been cleared from any malfunctions. Diagnostics went extremely well. You should rest for a few days before being released.”

“How long have I been out?” 

The physician tapped her lip with the white stylus a few times. “Two days,” she said, “You should rest a week. Avoid strenuous activity until then. Let your implants rest. You’ve overclocked them some, but nothing rest could help." She paced a few steps before looking back to her patient, "And now?" She held up her stylus and touched the Lieutenant's forehead, quickly pressing under her eyebrows to check her patient's eye dilation. She clicked her stylus several lights to beam a soft light into the Lieutenant's eyes."How are you feeling?"

The purple-eyed woman sat still. Once her doctor relinquished her hold she shook her head lightly with pinched brows. “Uh...I’m feeling fine. Just a little dizzy.”

The doctor promptly handed her patient a glass of water, to which she sipped twice before setting it back on the bedside table.

“Better?” the physician asked.

“Yeah.”

More scribbling. “Orders to rest aside, you’re almost clear, Lieutenant. I don’t need to prescribe you any medications other than the ones you’re currently taking.”

“So I’m free to go in a few days?”

The doctor nodded, “Yes. Provided you know exactly where we are.”

The woman smiled with a soft laugh. “Room 305, Huerta Memorial Hospital.”

“Good,” the physician said with a slight smile. She began making her way towards the door before looking back briefly, “I’ve got to run some last tests and keep an eye on you. But so far you’re doing great. Oh and...you’ve got visitors.”

“Thank you, Dr. Michel.”

The doctor nodded and exited the room swiftly, a door slid open and the silhouette of a figure stood nearby. The blonde woman greeted the other with a sharp nod before heading out. “Officer Vakarian.”

A krogan. Larger than most and male. He was relatively young in krogan years, but almost fully mature. His back was plated with naturally hardened gray hide which were in its last stages of fusing. He towered over the table, dressed in blue and black casual C-Sec uniform and eyeing the human patient with a sharp set of light bluish gray eyes.

“Vaul,” the Lieutenant breathed.

“You should watch after yourself more,” the deep-voiced krogan said. He crossed his arms and leant on a leg while assessing the room. “Mom and dad were worried.”

The woman coughed before managing to say, “Were they? I thought they wouldn't hear back until later. Did you wait long?”

"It wasn't a problem. I came by as often as I could." The krogan scratched his chin lightly, "And before anyone tells you: Congratulations Reilly.”

The woman was rubbing her forehead with her right hand palm. "Wait, wha-?"

At that moment the door slid open again, this time proceeded by rhythmic, hard-soled steps. A human man came through the doorway. He was a tall dusky-skinned fellow, dressed in some kind of black uniform with an red and white N7 embroidered emblem on his chest. His face was worn with wrinkles and light scars and he was definitely older than the others present. His hair was peppered black and gray and kept to a very short buzz cut.

“Vakarian,” the man approached the bed in a swift and energetic fashion, datapad in hand. The woman straightened her posture with her eyes directly on him.

“Major,” she replied back.

“Just coming in to congratulate you personally. Wanted to tell you first thing...before your parents arrive.” The man said with an outstretched hand. His datapad was held in the other.

The girl paused before receiving his large calloused hand. Her wrist still had thin tubes needled in as she managed to give him a firm handshake. She was still groggy, but blinked slowly to clear her head. “Sir? You came all the way to the Citadel to congratulate me?”

The man smiled, “Couldn’t pass up shaking the hand of the first Vakarian to graduate. Welcome to being an N7.”


	3. Chapter 3

The Reaper War had gone and passed. The magnitude of such things would leave a galaxy reeling for at least a generation, but it was not in the least forgotten. Relations between the species were not perfect and it was further exasperated by lingering grudges and old wounds. The humans had solidified their place as the new leading council race. The turians rebuilt themselves as the leading policing authority in the galaxy. The asari continued their pursuit of knowledge and wisdom along with the curious salarians, and the quarians began their long journey back home to Rannoch. The krogan species began to increase in numbers with the cure of the genophage, and gave rise to a renewed golden age in Tuchanka. The volus continued their mercentile livelihood and the elcor finally received a place on the council due to their sacrifices from the Reaper War. The hanar and drell continued their existence together as most would return to Kahje. The batarians, with numbers so few, irked out what they could from the womb of space. The rachni, along with the batarians, floated into the deeper unknown in seclusion.

The galaxy was depopulated with only a few genome banks available after the Reaper War. Genetic diversity suffered under the annihilation of billions of individuals. The ecosystems of planets were fragile and it lead to the creation of the Intergalactic Species Census, or the ISC. The mission of the ISC was twofold: to encourage a healthy ratio of species in the galaxy and to partition known resources under strict regulations. It was the Citadel Council's answer to the renewed population of krogan children. A prototype device blueprinted by renowned salarian scientist Mordin Solus was brought to life by his colleague, Padok Wiks. The Solus-Wiks Device revolutionized and tempered the relations of species altogether.

By using the same reproductive theories of the asari, the Solus-Wiks Device was capable of translating genetic material in virtually all species-provided their modes of reproduction were compatible. Salarians were now capable of living to hundreds of years due to their asari fathers, quarians were as robust as their krogan fathers, and the drell would inherit the immunities of humans. Krogan males, especially, were encouraged to mate outside their species with financial incentives. The device prompted a boom in genetic variety and diversity between the races.

But the device was only one of few technological advances to offset the impending storms of another war. Civil disputes erupted on every planet while the Citadel Council painstakingly created solutions, some with little to no results. The batarians, even with their depleted numbers, began to pirate the outer terminus systems and colonize every planet that was viable to their rebuilding. The krogans suffered several scuffles on Tuchanka, and with the assassination of Urdnot Bakara the planet’s political climate became increasingly unstable. Rannoch was also suffering tremendously trying to recreate their Golden Age with the geth.

Reilliane Vakarian was born and raised in such an atmosphere. She was only one of a few, but she was what the galaxy now called "conceived". And like most all conceived children she physically resembled her mother species. Reilly wasn't the first human-turian child to exist, and neither was her older human brother. She was, however the first human-turian to enter the N7 program provided that her older brother skipped it altogether. Being an N7 operative seemed to be the only achievement she could truly call her own.

The firstborn of Reilliane's family, Evan Vakarian, was nothing short of a remarkable prodigy. A month after implantiing the Solus-Wiks Device, Commander Veronika Shepard conceived a son with her husband-bondmate, Garrus Vakarian. The child was a brown-haired boy with the same blue-green eyes of his father, exactly in the same shade. As he grew older he did not disappoint the expectations of those around him. He was so extremely talented in everything that he tried his hand in. And before Evan could even officially begin his military career, the Citadel Council sought him out and promptly began him in Spectre training. To date he became the second-youngest Spectre, almost surpassing Saren Arterius by a mere few weeks. And now, as the galaxy presumes, Evan was somewhere shooting up the galaxy righting the wrongs. In Evan the universe had received a fusion of everything great about Shepard and Vakarian.

And of course, there were the younger boys: David and Steven. They were fraternal twins that looked nothing like one another, save for their similar height. David was a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy that resembled their grandmother Admiral Hannah Shepard. He participated in biotic ball as Steven regularly competed in hot shot competitions. David wasn’t as robust or strong as Evan or Steven, but he was biotically more gifted and intelligent even to asari and salarian standards. He somehow inherited their father’s sharp sense of tactics and had already surpassed their mother’s biotic prowess at her age. He was an ominous force on the biotic ball field and gained recognition galaxy-wide as such. His throws were so powerful that it has been known to break people’s backs on contact. Steven, his twin, was also just as competitive in sharp-shooting sports. The blonde-haired, hazel-eyed boy was perhaps his father incarnate. He was indisputedly the best shot ever produced on Earth and has yet to fulfill his potential. Steve was so adept with a sniper rifle to the point that when sporting he was often accused of cheating, only to disappoint jealous competitors.

And just like their older brother Evan, the twins were considered for early Spectre training due to their amazing abilities. The only problem was that the twins were barely eighteen, just after competing in their second intergalactic olympics and only in their first year of the Alliance Military Academy. Their parents had specifically barred the Citadel Council from snatching the twins up until they were at least twenty-one, provided that they had already serviced the Council with their first-born.

But the galaxy had nearly forgotten about Vaul Vakarian by the time the twins were born. The first child of the Shepard-Vakarian family was a meek orphan barely old enough to remember the events of the Reaper War. He was often soft-spoken and quite the opposite from other krogans. He stumbled through the cultural norms of humans and turians and was often of questionable allegiance due to his diverse background, but his want to fit in was not without effort. Vaul was actually quite bright. His intelligence was impressive, but unfortunately most would add, "impressive-for a krogan." He had an early interest in his father's work in C-Sec and had a bit of an obsession for detective vids. He became undoubtedly the favorite of his grandfather, Caius Vakarian. Vaul graduated as the third krogan C-Sec officer in all of Citadel history, and it was a very aged Caius who pinned his officer's ranks upon his adopted grandson. Vaul and Caius remained very close until his death several years ago. In ways Vaul had never gotten over it.

But, as the only girl of the family, Reilliane was often left out feeling a tad bit lonely. Even with four brothers she would feel out of place, particularly due to a medical condition that she was born with. Because of her delicate circumstances, she was often sheltered always looked after. Over her lifetime Reilliane built a strong bond with her family, bonds that would test her as an adult. 


	4. Chapter 4

Twenty-four years ago, the Vakarian family lived in a small secluded home on Virmire. It was a beautiful but modest place; something between a single family home and a large apartment. It had a great view, away from the growing cities and by a sleepy fishing town. It was situated within the side of a rocky cliff, just overlooking a few tiny beaches. The Vakarians lived there quietly for several years trying to maintain a normal family lifestyle, although it did not last nearly enough.

Reilliane was born during the night. Her father had to fetch the salarian doctor from the fishing town two hours away. By the time the two men returned, the sun had begun rising and Veronika Shepard had already been in labor for most of the night, partially submerged in a shallow pool of seawater. After Reilliane's birth, the salarian doctor began his initial diagnostics on the newborn and said, “Should not feed offspring with mother’s mammary fluids. Levo positive. Clear sign of psuedohemogenesis. Compromised immune system would guarantee death.” 

Reilliane had been born with a condition. It was a symptom that some conceived children bore, psuedohemogenesis, or PHG. Although the conceived children were by all accounts the same as their mother species, the blood makeup of their father species had “mistranslated” with the reproductive implants. It would mean that in theory, they were physical representations of their mother species in every detail save for their blood type.

Most embryos with PHG would never develop past a few weeks, and was a common cause of miscarriage. Even if lucky enough to be born, children with PHG were often sickly or had a sensitive constitution and such a disease would not manifest until birth. Some treatments were available, but due to Veronika Shepard's natural immunity with dextro-based cells, Reilliane was given a fighting chance. When it came to the usual scraps and burns that came with childhood, Reilly's father was the only individual that could touch her without fear of killing her. As an infant, Reilliane was regularly admitted to the hospital for blood work and treatments to stabilize. The family was eventually forced to move due to the grueling trek outside of their Virmire home to the nearest city hospital.

Reilly was nearly four years old when the Vakarians moved out of Virmire. Their decision was twofold: Her mother was called to do work for the Alliance back on Earth and also to be located near a state-of-the-art hospital that specialized in PHG research and treatment. Reilliane’s parents adjusted as best as they could, guiding their children into the limelight of the public eye. The children were enrolled in a public academy and had to finally break out of their small town mentality. They had fit in for the most part, especially as well-known as they were in the galaxy. But they were still peculiar to the traditionalists at the academy. Vaul, in particular, had the worst time getting used to the norms of Earthling culture.

The Vakarian's only adopted child was meters taller and kilos heavier than his human peers. Once, he accidentally broke one of the play gym bars while several children were gliding down. It resulted in twelve injured kids and a council of very angry parents. Eventually the academy, despite the pull that the Vakarians yielded, banned Vaul from attending that school and was thereafter given private lessons by their mother and tutorial VIs. Vaul didn't have too much of a social life to begin with, and it became harder to make Earthling friends. He did, however, make excellent companions of the neighborhood children. He still maintains some communication with them to this day.

Reilly’s experience was milder than Vaul's. She started her formal education while on Earth, but she was often secluded and she’d hear whispers from the adults. They speculated that her father only married her mother for political gains, given that his pull in turian society finally allied humans and turians together. The children at the time were also unaware of what turians were really like, and fabricated some fantastic lies about turians really being dinosaurs who mated with cats.

Reilly was by all accounts naive and unaware of the rampant criticisms her family received. She was clueless up until a time she climbed a large spiralling oak tree on a gutsy dare. Some children bullied her. They teased her and told her that only human children were capable of climbing up big trees, as turians didn’t have the physique or general limber ability to climb without significant effort. Turians had trouble tumbling around, after all.

She was about four or five years old at the time, only in her first year of school, when she fell down that tree. Her forehead cut open and red blood seeped out. Some children ran for help, others called their parents over. And as a few adults came to her aid, her blood began to settle. The realization hit Reilliane once they saw that her blood began to deepen in color and turn blue. The adults backed out, letting the poor girl sit silently on the dusty dirt ground bleeding.

The adults whispered among themselves and told the other children to stay clear from her. No one seemed to show any sympathy or normal concern for Reilly. Reilly felt like crying. It wasn’t the pain of the gash that hurt her, but the general atmosphere of loneliness she felt around her.

When her mother was within sight, she scooped Reilly up and pressed her forehead down with a damp white handkerchief. Reilly felt the need to cry then and buried her face in her mother’s shoulder to weep. She felt her mother’s warm hand rub up her back with soft words of encouragement. A few minutes passed while her mother talked to the school headmaster, who said something about “perhaps she’s not suitable for our school when she’s so high-risk”. Reilly hiccuped in her own cries while her family’s skyvan pulled up at the school’s driveway and her father flung the passenger door open. Before she was carefully propped into her seat she could hear a bystander say under her breath, “A turian in human skin.”


	5. Chapter 5

Reilly mused at a little digital postcard of what looked to be the Citadel skyline with a humanoid violet-skinned VI at its foreground. _Welcome to the Citadel!_ flashed across the card. It was ironic that she had never thought of sending a postcard until now. Not soon after, a beeping sound came from the large black screen before her. It had been a few days since her hospital stay on the Citadel. She returned to her home on Earth, and more specifically was now in her bedroom. It was a relatively small room, simply laid out with a full-size bed and a colorful old-fashioned quilt. A few aged plush toys sat neatly by bed's steel headboard. Vid posters hung from the walls, mainly of the action and adventure genre. She sat on a chair and her left knee was curled to her chest. She was dressed in loose white pajamas and reached over to the beeping haloboard. Her fingertips tapped lightly on the board’s surface.

The mainframe displayed a real-time picture of what looked to be an older turian male. His gray carapace had grown deep crevices, something akin to skin wrinkles. One side of his face was scarred, and his eyes were the same blue-green hue as it was in his youth. The only thing missing from his usual appearance was his trademark visor.

"Evening Dad." Reilly said. She was speaking in Cipritinese. She spoke the language extemely well, native-like and indiscernible from turians.

“Reilly,” the turian responded back in the same language, “Just checking in with you.”

His daughter nodded. It was quite the ritual to receive calls from her parents nearly every evening. Sometimes there wasn’t much to talk about, and sometimes there were tons. Reilly always looked forward to speaking to her father.

Back in the present, Reilliane spun once from her chair while in conversation with her father. Her dark auburn hair was pulled up to a high-set ponytail and unbrushed. “Had a run-in with Parker today.”

Captain Raymond Parker. Her commanding officer for her N3 designation. He was a few years older than Reilliane and also from a military family. He was a outgoing sort of person, someone that Reilly respected and admired. Garrus had heard about him. Not a boyfriend, but someone that Reilliane had held a candle for. Perhaps if anything it was a student-to-mentor crush.

“Finally had the chance to say something significant?” her father grinned.

Reilly scratched the side of her head, "I chickened out...I don't think I'm exactly his type."

"So what’s his type, according to you?"

His daughter breathed, almost in a sigh. "I dunno...girly, sweet, demure maybe?" She shrugged, "Not like me?"

Garrus spoke with a slightly indignant tone, "And what's there not to like about you?"

Reilly laughed. "You should know Dad. The moment I could walk you put a rifle in my hands. The kinds of bedtime stories you and Mom told me were about head-butting krogan, being heroes, saving people's lives...Not about princesses and castles. I just never fit in...I guess I'm just a huge dorky tomboy."

"People tell me your mother's a tomboy," the turian said, "but I see her plenty feminine."

The turian's daughter cocked a brow. "What's so feminine about Mom?"

"Well, for starters, uh..." his mandibles flared out slightly. He was giving more pause than necessary.

"See what I mean?" Reilly interjected.

Garrus' brow plates shifted up, "Well, the things I see in your mother aren't exactly safe for your ears, Sweetpea."

Reilly rolled her eyes. "That's yucky, Dad."

"But it's true."

"What did you see though...other than that?" Reilly looked down and began to fiddle with her hands. "When did you start to see her other than, you know, as a woman and not as Commander Shepard?"

Garrus didn’t have to think twice. "There really wasn’t a moment. But if I had to pick one, I suppose it’d be the first time I saw her in a dress. It was for a reconnaissance mission.”

"Really? That’s it?"

"Yeah."

Reilly's face scrunched. "So you're telling me that you didn’t think of her as a woman until you saw her in a...dress? You’re suggesting that I just glam and gussy up for Parker?"

"It wasn’t just that,” Garrus said. “It was how she wore it. To be honest, it didn't really matter what she wore. She was so damn classy on and off the battlefield."

“So...it was her confidence?”

“Well, you’re talking about your mother here. She’s as intimidating as she is beautiful.”

Reilliane shrugged. “How would you know anything about human beauty standards anyways?”

“I don’t. But I noticed how the human men looked at her and how the asari were throwing themselves at her.” Garrus scratched the side of his jaw, right at the line of his mandible. “I didn’t understand what the big fuss was about until I saw her in that dress. First, I thought she was quite pretty in a human kind of way, and then she hiked up her skirt for some pistols.”

Reilly laughed. "So you became attracted to Mom when she accidentally showed you a little skin?"

“I’m not suggesting you do that by any means," the turian quickly noted with a laugh. "There’s a difference between intentional flashing and...well...curious observation. But yeah, her skin. And...a bit of tasteful underwear.”

Reilly shook her head chuckling. "Gross, Dad.”

Garrus smiled. "You pressed for it. And it wasn't just all that. You know how I feel about your mother. She’s not all about looks. It’s the whole package with her."

"And I'm happier for it," Relliane smiled at him, "I’m really glad you both are still very much in love. I just hope I’m that lucky when my time comes.”

“It wasn’t just luck, Sweetpea,” Garrus said sternly. “It took a lot to keep us together during the war. We made sacrifices. When you are with someone, those sacrifices will just keep on getting bigger. Just focus on being yourself. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Your mother would’ve done just fine without me.”

Reilly’s dark brown brows pinched with a slight grin. “I don’t believe that.”

Her father smiled. “Well, your mother doesn’t believe that either. But there’s no shame in being single right now. There never was.”

“Yeah but, everyone around me just seems to-”

“Hey,” Garrus interrupted. “No shame, whatsoever. Promise Daddy that you won’t change for some random Captain of the Alliance. If he doesn’t notice you, it’s his loss. Just be yourself.”

Reilliane sighed softly and looked down. “Yeah. But I’m a bit of an oddball, aren’t I?”

“Love isn’t all about initial attraction. If I could only just show you how your mother and I were on our mission to Ilos. Completely professional. Cool as a cucumber, I think that’s the human term?” Garrus scratched his cheek. “And by oddball are you saying that in relative sense?”

“Well yeah, Dad.” Reilly stretched out her hands as to look at herself from her point of view. “I mean...I’m not exactly human.”

“Neither am I, but don’t let anyone define that for you. Being a little peculiar and strange never stopped your mother from saving the galaxy. You’re our perfect little girl. Don’t ever let anyone make you think otherwise.”

Reilly sighed softly and nodded absently. She genuinely felt a little better. “Yeah, thanks Dad.”

“I should go. Get some well-deserved rest. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

His human daughter kissed her fingertips and pressed them upon the haloboard, “Love you.”

“Love you too, Sweetpea.”

She pressed onto a few screens and the haloboard shut itsself off. It was approximately midnight. Her bedroom window was open, draped with some old-fashioned white linen. The whole place wasn’t to code. There were some cluttered items on the floor, and datapads stacked all over. She had been living at her grandmother’s for some time, often taking her weekends back when she was in college.


	6. Chapter 6

“Bzzzt!"

Reilly stumbled onto the hardwood floor. Her body had wrapped and twisted itself up in the white linen sheets during the night. The sun had yet to fully rise and the birds had barely begun chirping. She wormed her way out of her linen prison and reached for the alarm clock on her bedside table. 500 hours. Time to get up.

Reilly yawned and began straightening her bedsheets and arranged her bed quilt. She only had flat sheets and made sharp creases to tuck them under the mattress. Making her bed was something of an enjoyable chore for Reilliane. Her mother taught her. “All Shepards were instructed this way,” she said, “Showing discipline when no one’s watching is a great way to build character. Grandmom used to say that if all hell breaks loose at least you’ve made your bed.”

Reilliane stood up straight before her mirrored armoire and retrieved one of her flat brushes. She quickly smoothed out her auburn brown hair, all the way to the middle of her back. She probably would have gotten in trouble with the length of her hair, but no one would notice if she held it up. She twisted her hair in a loose and messy bun before throwing on a felt robe and exiting downstairs to the bathroom.

It had been a few days since Reiliane’s stay at the Citadel. She took a ship back to Earth with her krogan brother, who had taken a week off work to watch and accompany her. Her family was relatively all over the galaxy at this point in time.

A year or two after Evan was selected for Spectre status, her parents moved back into their Citadel apartment. Both Vaul and Evan had already sorted out their own lives away from the nest, but Evan was moreso required to live out of his suitcase as Vaul had purchased his own studio loft on the Citadel’s lower wards. Reilliane's younger siblings remained on Earth to complete their Academy training and to also become N7 hopefuls. They Shepard-Vakarian family shared a fairly modest property with their grandmother, a retired Alliance admiral. The main home was typically theirs when Reilly was a child, but her grandmother was now the de facto owner of the stead. It was an old ranch-style house, secluded by a few miles but built by the hands of Shepard men many generations ago.

Reilliane rushed to the restroom to perform her morning rituals. She walked out in a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. She made her way down the dim narrow hall and into a great room, a den of sorts, packed with exercise equipment. A young man was already on the bicycle machine, cycling his way and wiping the sweat off his head with a white towel.

He was a taller sort, lithe and sinewy. He wore a black tank top cut at his toned shoulders. He looked to have just gone through a growth spurt and was somewhat lanky. His bare legs had a bit of lit brown fuzz to them, something that all male humans experience at their cusp of adulthood. The skin on his face was clear of my imperfections, though. His jaw was squarely set and some of his baby fat had disappeared on his now slightly gaunt cheekbones. He had a tall nose and a thin set of lips.

The boy's bright hazel-green eyes shifted to his right. He could see Reilliane's reflection off the mirror. His voice was deep but youthful. It still rung of that funny crack all boys got when they went through puberty. "Mornin' sis." 

Reilly made her way onto the yoga mat with a nod to the boy. And opened up her orange onni-tool to play some kind of soft ambient asari chant music. "Steve."

The young man was slowing his pace on the wheels, slightly out of breath. "You...*huff* ready for today?"

Reilliane started stretching outward. Her fingers were intertwined and her back curved inwards. "Yup."

One of the boy's brown brows cocked up. "Think Evan'll be there?"

"He better be." Reilly bent down to touch her shoulders to her knees. "He needs to apologize for setting the bar up so high."

"What do you mean? He's not even an N7."

Reilly's purple eyes shifted to her younger brother. "He's a Spectre."

"Well, Mom was an N7 before becoming a Spectre." Steve's pace was on cool down. "Dave and I've got it figured out. I'm going to stick with the Alliance and he's going C-Sec."

The young woman laughed before standing back up. "I don't think that's how it works."

"No, seriously. I don't think I'd do any good as a cop."

"And why not?" Reilly rotated her arms from her shoulders. "You're pretty promising."

"Nah, it's too quiet." The boy dismounted the bike. As he stood, he was about a centimeter or two taller than Reilly. The Shepard-Vakarians were already quite tall; especially their women. Reilly inherited most of her mother's looks, if not all. She stood nearly six feet and Evan had already matched their father in height. Steve puffed. "Grandma and mom already do enough yelling. I'm going to miss that if I sit at a desk."

"Vaul has to do a lot of physical work too, you know." Reilliane noted.

"Well yeah, but he's krogan. And smart." Steven covered his head with his towel, leaving it on like a hood. "I want to be like Mom, all military."

"You have no biotic abilities."

Steven began to make his way out of the room. "So? It never stopped Grandma. Gotta keep the family name you know?"

Reilly rolled her eyes and was in a bent position. Her fingertips were planted on the yellow yoga mat and her head turned upside down. She then felt a slight push at her knees. She lost her balance and fell on her face under Steven's annoying chuckles. Reilly got up swiftly to shove him down. She wrestled him into an strong hold and punched his thigh. "Brat!"

Steve was laughing and got up from the mat. He jogged out and left his older sister alone for the meantime. She went through all her poses before jumping onto the treadmill for cardio. Reilly exercised for a few minutes, and then made her way to her bedroom. She quickly grabbed a suit hanging by her door, sealed in some clear sheet material. 

While she went back into the hallway she was greeted by an older woman, either in or quite close to her centennial years. The woman was white-haired and brown-eyed. Her face was wrinkled but in overall good tone. She was dressed sharply in a dark blue naval uniform, complete with golden chevrons and pinned with a ridiculous amount of awards. She was quite straight-backed and tall for her old age. Everyone knew her as Admiral Hannah Shepard, except her hero-daughter and subsequent offspring. 

"Reilly," the woman said, "it's 600 hours!" The Shepard's always had that particular trait. They were never normal in that they always told the time in military hours.

"Okay Grammy," the younger woman sprung her step, "I'm on it."

"ASAP!" the older woman yelled, pushing the girl into the bathroom.

Reilly undressed herself and leapt into the cold shower. She vaguely counted the minutes while she scrubbed and cleaned herself from the morning sweat she accumulated. Reilly patted herself dry with a plush towel and got dressed in the suit she retrieved from her room. It was her Class A N7 uniform, newly pressed and tailored. She smoothed the uniform with her hands, looking at herself in the mirror.

She was athletically built and her body was taut and tight. Reilliane thought back briefly to her conversation with her father about human attractiveness. She had modest breasts and frowned a little. Was she pretty? She combed her damp hair once and pulled it into a bun. She checked her face and applied a light beauty balm. She took out some kind of lip gloss and ran it over her lips, puckering it once. Maybe she wasn’t trying hard enough. 

Reilly exited the room and bumped directly into another person. This time it was her mother.

"Oh!" Reilliane's eyes widened. She looked to her mother.

Veronika Shepard was like all Shepard women; gracefully aged. She had war-hardened creases upon her face, but a certain softness. She wore suitable shade of dusty rose lipstick. Her lashes were still lush and thick, just as they were in her youth. One would think she had coated on mascara, but luckily that feature was all natural for the Shepard women. Like Reilly, Veronika had dark reddish brown hair, but her age showed in the fine white strands purposely left alone. Reilly inherited much of her looks from her mother. It was near impossible to deny the family resemblance.

  
  
Art by [MaxxieDemon.](http://maxxiedemon.tumblr.com/)  


"Here." her mother said while taking her daughter shoulders. Their voices were also similar, although Reilly had more of a subtle young purr to her tone. 

Reilly ran her hands over her crisp uniform, standing straight as to ask for inspection. Veronika's purple eyes gazed up and down and her hands reached to her daughter's collar.

"Your collar's unbuttoned," Veronika said while clasping the uniform together. 

"I didn't think you'd come until after," Reilliane said, "I guess you're here early to see I don't mess this up?"

"You can't mess this up," her mother replied, "You're a Shepard-Vakarian. Turn around."

Reilly obliged and she felt her mom loosening up her bun and touching her hair. Her mom's adept fingers combed through her hair and tugged on the auburn strands. She was quickly braiding it. This is what her mother would do; Find some small detail out of place and make it better.

"Your hair's one centimeter from being out of code."

Reilly's lips pinched to one side. "I'll cut it once the ceremony's over. I wanted it a little long today."

Her mother's voice was almost flat. "Captain Parker is expected to be here for your reception. But you need to stay in uniform, understood? Other dignitaries will be there."

Reilliane's face flushed, she felt a tinge to her cheeks. "You...invited him?"

"You were his best cadet," her mother said. "Your father insisted."

Reilly paused. "Did Dad...I mean..." She wondered if her mother was even aware.

"Your father didn't say much, he never had to," Veronika made the few last tugs before tying her daughter's hair up. "I know how important this is for you. I get it. You want to make an impression."

The younger woman gulped. She could never keep many secrets from her mother. "Is it normal to be nervous? I feel so childish...I'm thinking too much into it, aren't I?"

Veronika spun her daughter to face her. Reilly's eyes were downcast, almost afraid to meet her mother's disapproving look. But as she shifted her eyes up she saw her mother looking tenderly at her, "Reilliane, dear, you're going to do fine. I would hope you'd be more nervous for your father and I. You'll be sent out shortly after this..."

Reilly's lips tightened. "You're right. I shouldn't think like that." She managed a smile. "Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime."


	7. Chapter 7

Rio de Janeiro was warm that afternoon. A large audience amassed in the Alliance Amphitheater, right under the open blue sky where the weather was nothing but perfect. Several uniformed personnel stood stiffly on the stage as flags were raised and lowered. Rifles were shot. Music was played.

Up in the seats was a krogan in C-Sec uniform. Vaul took up a large portion of the bench seating, but he wasn’t by any means overweight. He was just legitimately big-boned. Then there were the twins, David and Steven, who wore their cadet uniforms. David stood stoically by his human brother to his right and their Admiral grandmother to their left. Evan was not present.

As the ceremony was beginning, they were joined by a flowing mass of guests who were newly arrived. Vaul looked to his side and found a female turian with bright hazel-green eyes. She was dressed in a fashionable official-looking black clothing with a golden spiral insignia pinned to her right chest. 

“Auntie Sol,” Vaul began.

“Admiral Shepard, boys.” the woman greeted. She was well-dressed and always had this wonderful citrus smell about her. Her movement was rather graceful and refined. It seemed that she spent many years training to be in the presence of dignitaries. Her carapace had a healthy sheen despite her age. She took a seat next to Vaul and held her hands together in front of her.

Grandmother Shepard leaned over the twins, patting their thighs to say that they move. The boys shifted around so that she could sit and speak to Solana. “How was the trip? We thought you’d be tied up in work.”

“I'm forcing the Council to give me a break,” Solana smiled. “Or more like an excuse to visit Earth. It’s my niece’s graduation, after all.”

“Completing the new census?” Vaul asked.

“We’re almost done. Turians are in need a bit of boost. We're relocating a few dextro supplies to Palaven. Salarian numbers look good. Krogans are keeping a good pace.” She grinned at Vaul, “What's keeping you Vaul? You’re not going to seduce a krogan female, are you?”

The krogan man was a bit bashful. “I uh...I haven’t given that much-”

“He’s been seeing some human officer.” Steve mewed. 

Vaul shot a disapproving glare at his snickering brother. He preferred to keep his private life under lock and key, especially when it came to family.

“Really now?” Solana was intrigued. “You've got a human fetish?”

If krogans were capable of blushing, Vaul would’ve been steaming red. “I...” he struggled, “Maybe I’m just looking to what’s familiar.” He was referring to his experience with women. So far, all of the significant female role models in his life were purely human. Vaul wasn't exactly the most desirable man in the C-Sec, in fact many women couldn't give him the time of day. Not many species found krogan men attractive. He had a few advances from krogan women, but they seemed more interested in the novelty of a krogan with the mind of a human-turian.

“You know Vaul, you could give turian women a try too. If you have offspring it’s double the incentive for you.” Solana teasingly winked at him. 

Vaul cleared his throat, keeping some of his remaining composure. "I'm in no hurry. If I needed advice, I'll get back to you."

Solana chuckled lightly. Her eyes then shifted to the brown-haired boy next to Steven. It was a young man barely out of his adolescence. He was tapping furiously on his open omni-tool. “And what about you, David? How’s b-ball?”

The youngster seemed preoccupied with the rapid bleeping coming from his omni-tool. Steven took notice and shoved his twin with an elbow, causing David to gasp, “That was going to be my highest score!” the young man cried. "You have no idea how hard it is to play Kepesh-Yakshi."

“Pay attention! Auntie asked you a question.” Steve told him.

David looked up. He had different shade of eyes from his grandmother, maybe closer to a liver brown color. It looked as if he was about to inherit the same purple-blue eyes of his sister and mother, which was a peculiar attribute somehow given to a one child within each Shepard generation. Evan Shepard, the childrens’ deceased maternal grandfather, had such eyes, as their great-grandmother before them. And like Evan Shepard, David was more attuned to the pursuits of the mind. Their grandfather was not as much as a soldier as he was a scientist. It was by chance that Hannah came from a long line of military.

“Sorry Aunt Sol,” David apologized. “To answer your question, I'd..." His brown eyes shifted towards a group of turians taking seats before them. They were gathering near their reserved call box, finer dressed than their aunt and flanked by two others in Blackwatch uniform, "Wait, is that-"

Grandmother Shepard craned her neck and lifted a pair of eyeglasses, "The Primarch's here?" For all the medical advances in the world, the senior citizens of the galaxy could never be cured of natural deficiencies that came with age.

Solana nodded softly while keeping her eyes pinned on the turian entourage. “They insisted. The ISC’s just passed one of their laws. A request more like it.” Hannah shifted her gaze onto her turian in-law. “PA-98? I thought that would’ve been shot down in the preliminary hearings.”

The female turian shook her head, “No.” She turned to face the elderly Shepard, “The Council voted, overruling our 2/3’s. I can’t discuss how I voted but I tried. I really did.”

“So the Primarch’s here for Reilliane...” Hannah said slowly. She bit her thin bottom lip, clearly in thought.

“Wait Grandma,” Steve butt in, “What is this PA-98 stuff you’re all talking about?”

Solana answered for her, “PA-98 is the Primarch’s request to recruit those who claim turians as their father species for the Blackwatch. The ISC ruled it would diversify their ranks and benefit their cause, but some of us voted against it because there would be a conflict of allegiance.”

“Wait, so they’re thinking of recruiting Reilly into the Blackwatch?” A worried countenance began to form over Steve’s young face. He had inherited his father’s honest demeanor. It was impossible for Steve to fake his emotions.

Solana grimaced, “Your father tried.”

Hannah was frowning, “But you can’t know if he voted on it.”

“I’m sure he didn’t.” Solana seemed confident in her answer. “The Blackwatch is constantly sent on suicide missions. Very few make it past their first year. They're different from N7s. Humans have a habit of trying to perserve their best, while turians often sent them out to glorious deaths. But for Garrus to vote against the majority...it must’ve looked like favoritism. So I’d assume...to save face...”

“He voted for,” Vaul answered. 

“That’s not right!” Steve nearly yelled, causing Dave to hold his elbow and shush him. Steve’s bottom lip was tense. “Reilly’s worked so hard to get here. Why would Dad want to send her out like that? He wouldn’t have-”

“But he did,” Solana said in a soft tone, apparently trying to calm her nephew down. “Your father would’ve fought tooth and nail before, but age and experience has taken him. He’s a diplomat now. He knows it’s not that easy anymore.”

Vaul frowned. He thought about the implications of the new law. “She’s not formerly recruited, right? She can say no.”

Solana shook her head, “Vaul, you know this. The turian term for ‘recruit’ is just the opposite. The Primarch has a claim on her because of your father. She has an obligation now. If she defected she would be tried and hung in turian court. She has no choice when called.”

Steve buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what this all meant, but he only knew as much as what the vids showed him. Every day in the turian channels he’d see another death count of Blackwatch operatives. As far as he knew, Reilly wasn’t exactly the best at what she did. She was good enough for N7, but nearly each mission she took sent her to the hospital.

David sat silently. His omni-tool was turned off at this point. He glanced at Steven and knew the same feeling. Dave wasn’t as outwardly expressive as his twin, but he started to feel the same worry for their big sister.  
Vaul’s lips were curled down, he then understood that if Reilliane was capable of going under the same laws of turians, so would his little brothers. In time, if PA-98 upholds, it would mean that both Steven and David would be ripe for the Blackwatch as well. He felt wrong to think that he was fortunate for his circumstances. Vaul was immune from all this, he was adopted, but he couldn’t help but feel extremely worried for his family.

While the family sat silently, most likely from stunned realization of what would happen to Reilliane, dignified ceremony music began to play and the stadium’s lights flicked against the sk. A few flags symbolizing the nations of Earth were raised before the central emblem of the Alliance, which was being marched around by a drill team. The twins and their retired Admiral-grandmother stood up and saluted firmly as the Alliance flag made its way across the stadium, as did many others who had given allegiance to the Alliance. Vaul and Solana, as well as many other interspecies guests, remained seated.

At the last resounding note of the anthem, the guests sat themselves back down and a procession of human marched down in rows, with rifles firmly set against uniformed shoulders. The group was not miniscule, but small in number. From the distance it was clear that there were perhaps one hundred or less people. Upon further inspection the soldiers were of varied ages, some even as old as 60 years old. A drill sergeant shouted commands in the silent stadium before ordering the troops to present arms.

Rifles were held out as a lone figure approached the podium, his face projected to a large screen above them. He was a man a little younger than Vaul’s parents, but human. He had dark skin and ragged scars at the side of his neck to his forehead. His black peppered gray hair was cropped short and he wore the distinctive N7 emblem in his dress blues. Despite looking so small from his distance from the callboxes, the man had a clearly well-defined body. He was almost as solidly built as a krogan. Vaul recognized him as the man who visited Reilliane during her last hospital stay.

“Family, friends, and esteemed guests,” the man spoke, “I welcome you to Vila Militar. I am Major James Vega, Chief of Operations of the illustrious Interplanetary Combatives Training. Otherwise known as the N7 program.”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically to his last statement. Once the noise leveled to a respectable volume, the major resumed his speech. Like most graduation speeches, Vega spoke of the intensity in receiving a N7 designation. He talked about Vila Militar’s history, its conception, and its ongoing commitment to military excellence. After a brief interlude, Vega straightened himself up and raised his hands to present the troops about face.

“I now present the Alliances’ N7 current designees.”

The soldiers saluted with their rifles to their audience, with the first row still at rest. It was clear that N7 graduation was a rare event due to the tiny amount of graduates produced. Vaul then scanned the tiny pink faces for the familiar visages of his little sister. It was hard to tell when their uniforms were in perfect lines and angles. In the flood of blue and black fabric and various states of Alliance ranks, Vaul was able to make out the last individual in the first row. Of course, he thought, alphabetical order.

Major Vega then began to present the newly designated N7 operatives. The graduates would stand solemnly on stage while a person of high honors, usually a family member or commanding officer, would pin their N7 designation on their uniform. At the end of each pinning there would be an applause.

Lastly Relliane stood firmly on stage. Vaul could see that his parents entered the stage before her. Veronika Shepard was dressed in her N7 dress blues, glittering awards pinned at nearly every nook and cranny. Garrus Vakarian was in a dark black and red suit. He wore simple attire, but it was known to be the uniform of the Citadel Councilor. For all he’s done in the galaxy one could never guess Garrus would ever grow to be a politician, but he did on the insistence of his people and of his wife. Veronika had long retired from her post in the Alliance, but she still had extreme pull in the workings of the galaxy. She was what she joked a “desk-Spectre”.

Both parents turned to Reilliane and carefully pinned her ranks on her shoulders. Reilly’s countenance was stoic as she exited the stage with her parents. It wasn’t clear if she had ever been aware of the Primarch or what would happen to her in the upcoming weeks. But from what Vaul understood, she was much too focused on just passing through the N7 program to keep track.

There was one more speech. Although Commander Shepard had spoke many times for the N7 program after the Reaper War, she eventually started declining. A fresh graduate took stage and spoke about the implications of honor for their accomplishments. He was about the same age as Reilly and well-spoken. After his speech he commanded the graduates to about face, and the ceremony was over. Applause followed, and then the chaotic mess of people out on the field.

In the bustle of families trying to find their loved ones, Reilly was flanked closest by her parents. Her mother had taken hold of her right elbow like the child she was, guiding her through the mass of cluttered people.

“The Primarch will be at your reception to meet you,” Veronika said. “As well as your future commander.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Reilly nearly mumbled, but Veronika’s ears were too sensitive to have not heard it. She stopped and sharply turned her daughter to her. Her hands were on her shoulders.

“Reilliane, please.” Veronika’s face was almost begging, but it was still stern. Reilliane glanced down when she met eyes with her mother.

Another hand grabbed her left elbow, guiding Reilly further along. She heard her father speak. His voice was low. “You have no idea how much we’ve tried to prevent this.”

“We’ve already thrown your brother out to the whims of the galaxy,” Veronika said, continuing to march alongside her husband with their only daughter in-between. “As if what we’ve already given them wasn’t enough."

“Mom, Dad, I’ll be fine, really.” Reilliane gave out a nervous laugh.

Garrus turned back, the scarred side of his face showing. “With your record of getting hurt? Don’t be naive, Reilliane.”

Reilly frowned. She was aware, or at least recently. After her hospital stay her father and mother were sure to let her know about the passing law. Her mother was typically the one to lecture her. Instead of being sent out to the Terminus Systems with her N7 squadmates, she would be shipped to Palaven.

Once she was discharged from the hospital and on her way to Earth, she had been receiving calls non-stop from the Citadel. There were several messages from the Earth ambassador and the human Councilor. The human ambassador was yet another of her parents' acquaintances: Major Kaidan Alenko, a retired officer from the Alliance military. She didn't know much of theological intrigues that went on in the galaxy, but all she understood was to follow orders. 

Back at her graduation, Reilliane's parents marched and found themselves by the entrance of the amphitheater. It almost looked something like the gateway to an amusement park, loaded and full of chattering families. The Shepard-Vakarians stood there waiting to greet Reilly. The twins brought a blue halo balloons with "Congratulations Reilly!" written on them. Vaul stood there with a small plush thresher maw. He often gave her stuffed animals. Aunt Solana held a garland of Palaven orchids, strung together in the human tradition.

Reilly approached her turian aunt with a light "kiss", by touching foreheads, and embraced her with happiness. Her aunt placed the flower garland over her neck. The twin boys were excited, gifting her with the balloons and began to chatter their big sister up. Vaul was nearby smiling and began a light conversation with their grandmother.

Veronika and her husband-bondmate were a few meters away, watching the small family reunion. She turned and said softly to Garrus, her periwinkle-purple eyes looking up to him. "She barely passed. I'm worried."

“I am too, Shepard,” Garrus murmured. His right hand grazed over her lower back and squeezed her lightly. “Remember, we're in this together."


	8. Chapter 8

The sharply uniformed caterers had a delightful buffet of food spread out for their guests. Each silver plate was rested on an array of sharp white linens, complete with floral arrangements sent from all over the galaxy. A turian bartender shook up various concoctions to well-dressed guests behind the home’s custom-built bar. A small salarian string band played soft ambient music nearby. It was definitely a classy reception, one the Shepard-

Vakarians could afford it all due to the gross amount of royalties their vids produced.

It was a lifestyle that Reilliane knew. Ever since birth Reilly was trained in the etiquette of both human and turian cultures and often met with political dignitaries on a constant basis. Often her mother would dress her up in cleanly pressed attire and she would shine her own shoes. She was a far cry from a socialite, but was taught how to smile subtly, how to stand tall, and how to navigate social interactions. Her mother might've not taken the hard politician's path. But as a Shepard, a military family, Veronika was very much capable of being in the presence of blue bloods-both figuratively and literally.

The reception went on slowly into the night. David and Steven were accommodating the younger guests and were occasionally approached by fans of their accomplishments. Vaul was engrossed in conversations with some turian dignitaries who were mainly generals from what he's learned. They were old friends of Caius Vakarian, their paternal grandfather, and often retold stories of his presence and influence in C-Sec. Grandmother Shepard met up with Major Vega and began a conversation with him, reminiscing about their experiences in the Reaper War.

Garrus Vakarian was discussing plans of returning to the Citadel with his wife. Veronika Shepard was still dressed in her N7 Class A’s, laughing softly to one of her bondmate’s little political jokes. They held a glass of levo-dextro golden champagne., swirling its contents every few moments. It was not long before they were approached by a Solana and a male turian. He was about the same height as Garrus, with strong facial features but extremely soft eyes. The man was dressed in royal purple and flanked by black-uniformed turian bodyguards. Garrus nodded his way. His eye glanced at his older sister, before shifting them back to the man accompanying her.

“Primarch.” Garrus said. He held out his free hand.

The man took his hand and shook it once. “Councilor."

Solana straightened herself, "Shall we retreat to your study?”

“Naturally,” Garrus replied. He looked to his wife-bondmate, and Veronika subtly took his glass to go her own way. 

The turian men and Solana quickly retreated into the house study, down an unlit hall. Only one individual was left behind from the Primarch’s entourage; his turian wife.

The turian woman was adorned with dangling gold ornaments. Her carapace was splashed with sheen and soft powder to illuminate her face. She had a pair of bright golden eyes and moved with the same grace of cranes in flight. Every movement was accompanied by the soft jingles of her jewelry. She was slightly taller than Shepard, considerably small in turian terms at an even 6'. To most turians, she was the epitome of beauty.

"Shepard," the Primarch's wife said.

Veronika was still on her military dress, a gender-neutral outfit, but she felt far from being intimidated in the presence of feminine glamour. She knew how to appear cool and collected. A Salarian waiter came their way with an empty tray. Shepard handed the unfinished glasses to him while her eyes were locked on the female turian. "Endario."

The turian woman sipped a bit from her champagne flute and placed it deftly upon the moving silver platter of the passing server. "Shall we make small talk in the great room?"

Shepard's eyes didn't flinch, "I would suggest the courtyard."

"Of course," the turian nodded softly, "You are the host."

The two women shared an uncanny civility. Veronika was well-aware of Amalie Endario's influence in the turian Hierarchy. Once upon a time she shared a bed with her husband-bondmate, if only just once, but enough to cause some kind of strange relation. Such things could never leave Shepard's knowledge, even if her husband kept it from her. Regardless, the interactions between Shepard and Endario were never too uncomfortable. In fact, the two got along as far as anyone was concerned.

They spoke on equal ground because of their immense respect for one another. Amalie Endario made it a sticking point to be as well-mannered in the presence of a heroine. She understood perfectly never to leave Shepard’s good graces, as the political problems that could arise would be disastrous to the relations of humans and turians.

The two women exited out the house and Veronika offered a small smile to Amalie. "So I take it that you were the one behind PA-98?" She was speaking in Cipritinese, a language she’s learned ever since her studies in the Alliance Academy. She still had that curled accent to her vowels. It never left despite all her efforts to learn otherwise. Eventually it made her sound endearing to turians galaxy-wide for her “human accent”.

"Spirits no," Amalie nearly laughed. "It's dreadfully sloppy. No tact. Not my style at all."

The human woman glanced away and began to look out to the dawning sky. The canvas of their courtyard was red-orange, purple, and blue. A few birds were migrating away in flocks, making soft noises as they flew overhead.

The silence took the turian lady and she turned to the human. "Shepard. In all honesty," Amalie held a genuine tone, "I had no hand in it. My husband pushed for it before consulting me."

Veronika was leaning onto a white-painted wooden railing, just before a wide open field of grass and immaculately trimmed landscaping. She turned around and settled her back on its surface. She crossed her arms and stood silently for a brief while. "This isn't the small talk that you proposed."

"Yet you initiated it." Amalie replied.

"Will Reilliane be safe?" Veronika asked flatly.

"I've taken pains to see that she won't be in the front lines," Amalie’s mandibles fluttered lightly. 

"She’s been trained to take up the front lines," Shepard responded, "But, we've done our best with Reilliane. She is as ready as we can make her."

"You couldn't expect more from the progeny of Commander Veronika Shepard and her bondmate Dux Garrus Vakarian." Amalie offered, "She's quite extraordinary."

Shepard was quiet before looking back to the view before them. "Unfortunately she believes otherwise."

In another room, Reilliane was standing in front of an array of dextro-friendly appetizers. The string band was playing something jazzy, peppy, and all too unlike Reilliane’s mood. She was fixing herself a small plate of what looked to be purple Vienna sausages when she felt a warm hand on her left shoulder. 

"Reilliane."

She spun. Her mouth dropped and she nearly let go of her plate. She slid it onto a small space on the buffet table and threw her arms around a tall human man.

"Evan! Spirits, you came!"

The human man was dressed in a red and black suit, with a red embroidered insignia splayed across his back like a target. Spectre Class A's as it was known. He was tall for a human, solid but lithely built. His face was chiseled and worn, but he had a broad smile on his face. The man gently distanced himself from Reilliane at arm's length.

"Sorry I'm late. You were beginning to look lonely."

"Where did you come from?"

Evan shook his head. His dark brown hair had been buzzed down to its roots. His thick angled brows that furrowed. "Far. That's all I could say. But I wanted to see you first. How's the family?"

Reilly smiled at him. Despite working as a Spectre, Evan never received direct orders from his father. Garrus Vakarian was now Councilor for the turian race, if only for a few years. In fact, the workings between having a Spectre son and a Councilor father were never explored or discussed in public. Reilly didn't know, she couldn't ask, and as much as she was aware the vids couldn't explain it any better than herself. She only knew that Evan seldomly sent word to the family. He imitated their father's poor habit of disappearing into the galaxy for months at a time, and it had been nearly a decade since Evan had left for the Citadel for Spectre training.

Evan was missed when he flew out of the family's nest. He was the most righteous and stubborn of all the Shepard-Vakarian children. Vaul was older, but was more introverted and secluded from other children than Evan. Few humans wanted to play with a krogan and naturally Evan would try in vain to be the diplomat. He was too stubborn to see their ways as correct, and often walked alone with Vaul back home. When Vaul got into trouble, Evan would spring into action, punching faces in and kicking violently at their ignorance. Vaul would never dare try to stand up for himself, for he knew that he'd be more prone to killing a child due to his enormous strength.

Reilliane also received Evan's furious protection. Once he heard wind of children saying that his sister was a "turian in human skin", the barely pre-adolescent boy marched to the doors of each family to feign a play date, only to drag the poor children into the ground with their sniffled cries. Evan was considered hotheaded and even too high-risk as a child, but his performance in classes were so admirable that it was hard for adults to prosecute him. But after Spectre training at the end of his teenage years, Evan became more quiet. He was reserved and once in awhile one could still see flashes of his passion for justice. As far as the galaxy was concerned, Evan was the perfect child for Shepard and Vakarian. He was a person who never took "no" for an answer, forceful with strong convictions, and was capable of delivering his words with actions.

Back at Reilliane's reception, the two siblings continue to engage in light conversation. Reilliane saw another familiar person from the corner of her eye. It was another human man, albeit not as tall as her brother, but more like someone of her height. He was a dark-haired, dusky-skinned man in Alliance uniform. 

A young lady, dressed in the latest fashions, walked beside him with her arm hooked around his. She was blonde with bright blue eyes, more than likely a genetic alteration. She was slender and modelesque with porcelain skin, much whiter than Reilly. Her lips were crimson red, and her lashes were full and fluttering like a sweet baby doll.

Reilliane's jaw dropped slightly, almost gawking. The man caught her eyes and made his way towards the brother-sister pair.


	9. Chapter 9

"Lieutenant," the man began. He was referring to the sister of the Vakarian siblings.

Reilliane nodded meekly, almost shyly. She was trying to maintain a neutral demeanor, "Captain."

The young man looked up at Evan. "You must be Evan, her brother. She's told me much about you." He offered a hand. It was large, calloused, and definitely weathered.

Evan smiled lightly and shook hands in a professional manner. "That I am." Evan's blue-green eyes shifted to the blonde lady, "And may I ask the identity of your lovely guest?"

Captain Raymond Parker chuckled lightly and the woman did something of a curtsy. She didn't speak, but the Captain introduced her as most polite men would. "This is my new fiancée, Sarah Reese. We uh..." He threw his arm back to hold the back of his head with one of his palms with a light laugh, "Got engaged just last night."

"Ah, congratulations!" Evan said.

Reilliane's lip quivered, if not just for one millisecond. She grabbed every bit of confidence she had. "Not military?" The comment caused Evan's eyes to shift at her, almost in disapproval.

"Oh no," the Captain said, "I'm a traditionalist. Some women like Sarah are...well...how should I..."

"Too delicate," Sarah said. Her voice was sweet, pure, and pretty.

Parker laughed lightly again. "She has a medical condition that requires her to avoid physical exertion.” He nodded lightly to Reilly, “Although I am grateful that you are military, Lieutenant, as well as your mother, I mean no offense. Personally I prefer a woman to come home to."

Reilliane lightly bit her lower lip and forced a smile. In her mind she was scrambling to find the reason. She was just as medically unsound as a cancerous child with her PHG, yet she was still able to push through all her training and keep her condition under control. Her anger was seeping ever so slightly at the fact that the man she admired so much preferred a woman that apparently had few achievements under her name. To the untrained eye, one would understand that happiness was her genuine emotion. But to someone who knew her like Evan, her slight hesitation was obvious. Her voice came out a little flat, but still congenial. "Well, congratulations Captain. I am sure that you would make her the happiest woman alive."

"I meant to give you the congratulations, Lieutenant," Parker said, he held out his hand.

Reilly took his hand and shook it. She maintained a strictly professional visage. "Thank you, Captain."

"I'll be looking forward to the vids about you, Lieutenant Vakarian. You're a great asset to the galaxy." He looked to Evan, "As you are as well, sir."

Reilliane nodded once. "Thank you, Captain."

As the two left, Reilliane's purple eyes locked on the young lady. She walked with a bit of a graceful sway, something Reilly never understood or felt too silly to attempt. She gave out a heavy sigh. Evan's eyes shifted to her. 

"I'm an idiot," Reilly muttered and made her way out the front door of the house. Evan picked up the small plate of dextro appetizers that his sister had forgotten and followed.

"What the hell was that?" He opened the door to the home to let his sister out, pausing at the porch.

For some reason Reilliane was slightly relieved. Her parents were aware of her crush on her captain, but at least this was news to Evan. She wasn't being the love-stricken schoolgirl as she feared to be. She sulked a bit and looked to her brother. They stood on the large wooden porch of their Earth home. It was really old fashioned as it remained in the Shepard family for generations. Reilliane simply kept her eyes on her brother, held his gaze for a few seconds, and looked away to sigh again.

"I see." He said slowly. That was the thing about siblings, there wasn't much to say to understand one another. "So it was pretty painful to see him choose a woman who was so unlike...well...you?"

Reilliane frowned slightly, "It's not so much that. I'm twenty-four and never been kissed. I haven't even held anyone's hand like that. Not even a date. I thought he'd be it. I mean on the surface he was everything I should want."

Evan cocked a brow while he leant on a wooden pillar, "You've never tried, then?"

Reilly's hand went to her forehead, "I don't even know how it's supposed to work. I've sent him flowers. Thank you cards. Hints?"

Evan squinted his face. He gave his sister the plate of little purple sausages. "Then why are you thanking him?"

"What?" 

"Why Reilly?" Evan looked genuinely puzzled. "He's obviously not the kind the guy capable of handling women like you. I mean, his woman could probably die of a cough."

Reilliane jerked her head back. "So could I."

"I mean," Evan continued, "He obviously doesn't understand the value of an independent partner. Mom was pretty much the same thing, right? Single for years before Dad? You should see it from a man's point of view. You're intimidating."

Reilly laughed in disbelief. "I go to the hospital after every mission. I don't think I'm not that intimidating when a cold nearly kills me."

"No," Evan said. "But you're an N7 now. He's just a lowly captain. I mean although you're still a lieutenant I doubt that'll stay the case for long. You're a Shepard-Vakarian. That means that you have Archangel-turned-turian-Councilor as your father."

"And Commander-Shepard-turned-desk-Spectre as my mother," Reilly added.

"Not to mention that the whole galaxy owes her their lives. And that you have a krogan C-Sec officer for an older brother."

"And a Spectre for another." Reilly smiled.

Evan grinned back. "So you see Reilliane, plenty of things to cause any well-meaning suitor to piss in their pants. And from the Primarch's presence here it seems-"

"More like reason for me to piss in my pants." Reilly said.

Evan’s lips tensed. "So the rumors are true? He’s here for you?" 

"Dad and Primarch Axius are in the study right now," Reilliane sighed. She took a bite of one of her appetizers. She swallowed. "I feel like they're bartering for a cow. I know Dad's tried, but..."

"Overturned?"

Reilly nodded softly. 

Her brother rubbed the temples of his head with his middle finger and thumb. "How soon?"

"Maybe a week." She shrugged. "I guess I could look on the bright side. It’ll be a good chance to brush up on my Cipritinese." 

"Yours is perfect," Evan laughed. "Mine needs work. I’ve been using it more on the Citadel. You know Reilly,” Evan moved to sit on the wooden porch chair, “Maybe you'll find someone of your liking on Palaven. The men there are more reciprocal of a woman's advances."

Reilliane's countenance lightened up and she laughed. "That's because it's in Dad’s culture.” 

Evan started swinging the chair to a gentle rock. “They say to always pick someone closest to home.”

Reilliane cocked an eyebrow. “Mom and Dad didn’t do that, they’re of completely different species.”

Evan smirked, “I meant in terms of personality. Why are you so concerned about this kind of stuff anyways?”

Reilly shrugged, “I dunno...I suppose having some romantic interest or experience would’ve made me a little more normal.”

Her older brother chuckled loudly. “We're far from it."

"I guess I just want to feel..." She was trying to find the right word. “Feminine."

"Being feminine doesn’t necessarily mean attractive," Evan said, "I doubt any of the men in our family would go for the delicate girly girls anyways. It's impractical."

Reilliane cocked a brow. "Impractical? How?"

Evan cleared his throat loudly. "Well Vaul's krogan. He could snap a typical woman in half. Dad's turian." He paused. "You know...carapace and all."

"Let's not get into details," Reilly said for him. "I get it. But you and the twins are human."

Evan shrugged with a smile. "What's wrong with wanting a strong woman?"


	10. Chapter 10

The night had set into a serene quiet. Reilliane was back in her room, a luggage case opened with several folded outfits tucked in. 

Her graduation reception went on smoothly. Drinks were poured until near midnight and her father toasted her multiple times in praise of her accomplishments. She spent awhile getting used to the shock and disappointment of her former Captain already with someone else. But her reaction was reduced to several seconds of mindless staring. She was quick to snap herself back to the festivities before her. Evan remained near her for the most part, until Vaul joined them for a amicable game of pool to ease her mind. Despite being so large, the krogan was quite dexterous and often surprised onlookers.

She was smiling to herself at the circumstances. Her heart grew lighter as the night wore on. Perhaps leaving Earth wouldn’t be so much of a change from her wild life. She never stayed in one place for too long, due to her parents’ extreme involvement with the happenings of the galaxy. She was trying to forget why she spent so much time thinking about Captain Parker. 

The two had met during her N3 training; biotic strategies. Reilliane was never so adept to her skills as her brother David, but she was proficient enough to raise a few eyebrows. Captain Parker was a biotic as well, experienced and top of his class from Grissom Academy. Reilly would have also been a classmate of Raymond Parker if only her parents had not moved so frequently and insisted she be with them at all times.

She was so enchanted by Parker’s presence. He had so much charisma and charm. His subordinates adored him. Reilly liked that he was so outgoing, but his professionalism was also so extreme that it was always hard to decipher what his personal feelings were.

Reilly’s childhood was rather lonely. She was borderline awkward when it came to social functions. Sometimes she’d say something blunt, but too crass for the tastes of others. Other times she would fumble through asking a colleague to join her for coffee. Reilly truly didn’t have many friends, if not any. Once she entered the N7 program, most of her friends from school had drifted into their own careers and lives. 

The only constant friends she had were, undoubtedly, her brothers. Vaul was a constant companion for most of her life. When he left for C-Sec she felt rather lonely and tried to rebuild what little social circle she had. With Evan gone and absent from the family circle, Vaul was the only person who made himself available whenever she called.

He knew about Captain Parker, but didn’t form an opinion on him until the night of Reilly’s N7 reception. The party had already died down and the caterers were long gone. Those who were left were scattered about the house. Reilly was activating the seal on her last piece of luggage when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced back to see her krogan brother, still in his C-Sec uniform, standing there. He didn't look the least bit tired.

“Didn’t go well?” the krogan said.

Reilly shrugged. “He has a fiancee. What can I say about that?”

Vaul tilted his large head. “You don’t look the least bit bothered by it.”

Reilly uttered some kind of soft scoffing sound and went back to running her index finger over a few folded lines of her clothes. “I am a bit hurt, but I’ve learned to let things go where they may. I can't exactly hope for much when I'm starting a new phase in my life, right? I think I’m starting to realize that I just admired him and mistook it for attraction.”

Vaul folded his arms and leant on the open door. “And?”

Reilliane’s purple eyes shifted to her side and she lightly bit her lower lip. “No, I mean-I know what you mean. If only it was more, he would’ve been a great match. But I suppose I focused too much on the outer layers of a person, how the world would think of us, without really thinking about what matters.”

Vaul nodded.

“Well, I really didn’t know him.” Reilly’s fingertips were playing at the edges of her shirt. “I feel a little betrayed by own feelings right now.”

"Don't kick yourself over it," Vaul said. "You're a wonderful person. Maybe a little lost right now, but I'm sure you'll do just fine. You have a loving family to support you."

Reilly looked to her older brother, apparently surprised at his glowing compliments of her. Despite being so soft-spoken and quiet for the most part, Vaul knew how to say the right things at the right time. She offerred a deep smile to him. "Thanks, Vaul."

Vaul left the door and approached his sister. His large hand rested on her shoulders and he offered a smile in return. It was one of those crooked ones that he'd make only when he was genuinely happy. "Join us downstairs."

Reilly paused and followed her brother to the living room. All four of her brothers sitting on the couches, simply in conversation. They were still dressed in their formal clothes but the twins had unbuttoned their shirts and Evan had taken off his coat. Steven was picking at a plate of peanuts. Relliane noticed a gift box in the middle of the coffee table. It still had a traditional red bow tied on it.

David looked over his shoulder and nodded at Reillianne. She took a seat by him on the couch. Evan was seated by her, his left arm was rested on the back of the couch and his right ankle was resting on a knee.  
There was a pair of single large chairs. Steve occupied one of them. He leant forward to grab a handful of peanuts. Vaul took a seat in the other chair. The large krogan would've taken the whole couch had it not been occupied.

"We wanted to chat," Vaul said while he sat down. "Before we all go our separate ways tomorrow."

"What about?" was Reilly's natural response.

"You know how this goes," Evan said, "Talk as if it'll be the last time we'll see you."

Reilly bit her lower lip. This was something of a developed tradition between the siblings. Their parents often spoke as if each night would've been their last, always ending up on some positive note and encouragement to be strong. Once Vaul had gone into C-Sec and Evan into Spectre training, every occasion that the family would get together would end in some "goodbye, possibly forever" talk. 

She also already knew what was in the gift box. Each time the siblings were spirited off to some suicide mission or long term assignment they’d commemorate it by gifting an empty box, only with a slip of paper with “I.O.U. Lunch” signed by each of the siblings. She had recently signed one and honored her promise of a lunch with Vaul not too long ago.

"Well, uh," Reilly was thinking, "Life seems...good..."

"Not that kind of stuff, sis," Steve said with a few peanuts still in his mouth.

"Yeah, right." Reillianne cleared her throat. "So...Dad and Auntie Sol have talked with the Primarch tonight. Just when I finally celebrate becoming an N7, I’ve got this strange feeling that I was just volunteered into the Blackwatch.”

“So you’re going to have a kind of black ops spy life like Evan?” David asked.

“They are called the Blackwatch, after all.” Reilly responded.

“Where are they taking you, do you know that at least?” Steven asked.

Reilliane took in a breath. She was briefed shortly before the evening ended. Her father dragged her in the study while Major James Vega stood before her. They made the official transfer right then and there. “Citadel, then Palaven. Then I don’t know where. Dad’s telling me to stay with Cousin Mina and Braxus for awhile.”

“Well at least you can stay with Evan and me,” Vaul said. “While you’re at the Citadel, that is.”

Reilliane had a somewhat funny smile on her face. It was mixed between genuine and sarcastic. "Yeah, I could take up your I.O.U.s then, right?"

"Sis, you'll be alright, yeah?" Steven was looking worried.

Reilliane looked to her younger twin brothers. She patted David's on his head with one hand, and reached for Steven's blonde cap with the other. "I dunno," she said honestly, "But I'll try to keep my end of the bargain with you two. I'll be watching you both in your pursuits. Dave's going to have a good season I think, and you'll win that championship again Steve." 

Reilly offered a small smile to her brothers. She was blessed, she felt. The galaxy was such a big place but she always managed to reconnect with her family. It was just as if they had left yesterday, despite all their trials and tribulations. 

She was beginning to understand why so many men and women fought for ideals and to protect their loved ones. A good part of her felt that she was doing this for her family, another part knew it was simply the path she had to take in order to become an adult. That strong front she offered was a half-lie. She was terrified of leaving the familiar faces and the familiar worlds, but at least she was returning to Palaven. She never lived there, but she had stayed enough slow summers to appreciate it to some extent. 

The siblings remained talking late into the night. They would be going their separate ways again, and most of all Evan would be disappearing just as Reilly would. Even though they would probably meet again in time, Reilliane felt the changes coming in her life. It was an inevitable, but she realized with the depths of her mind that she should welcome it. She had a epitome that changing herself was the only control she had in the circimstances before her. She remembered her mother saying that once.

The siblings talked and chatted up until they all fell asleep in their own place. This too was a tradition that they had to one another. When Reilliane managed to slightly wake, she felt the room lights dim and a soft kiss on her forehead. By the texture of the lips, and the sweet smell before her, Reilliane knew it to be her mother. She also heard her father's low voice faintly near her. "We love you, dear girl. Spirits please watch over her." Not soon after, she began falling asleep with a slight smile on her face, eager to see what her future held.


End file.
